


Not Actually an Alcoholic Waste of Space

by vague_ambition



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:09:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vague_ambition/pseuds/vague_ambition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When Enjolras first met Grantaire, he thought he was an alcoholic waste of space.  To be fair, that’s how the other man was acting."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Actually an Alcoholic Waste of Space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [francefrancerevolution](https://archiveofourown.org/users/francefrancerevolution/gifts).



> Sorry, I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are completely my own! Merry Christmas all, this was my first challenge/collection, so I hope the reciever (and everyone else) enjoys it!

            When Enjolras first met Grantaire, he thought he was an alcoholic waste of space.  To be fair, that’s how the other man was acting. He was drinking straight from a vodka bottle- impressive; to say the least- and proclaiming that Enjolras’s plans were doomed. Enjolras ignored him, not wanting to engage the nuisance further. He had no idea why Courfeyrac and Jehan had brought this cynical drunk into a meeting to begin with.

            Enjolras was twenty-two and he had all the answers, or so he thought. In his fourth year of pre-law, he was convinced that he would change the world. He had a group of loyal friends, a supportive boyfriend, and an almost guaranteed acceptance into law school. He organized protests every other weekend and had been arrested and bailed out four times, but that didn’t discourage the university from loving him. Enjolras was going places.

            Grantaire was everything the glorious leader wasn’t. He was twenty-six, only just finishing up a degree in art. He had scars on his knuckles and he wasn’t conventionally handsome, although he was handsome enough to pick up strangers in bars on a regular basis. His only long term relationship had ended horribly, he was poor, and drinking was the least of his vices. And he didn’t believe in anything. He didn’t care about social justice, or helping others. He cared about his next drink.  This, of course, disgusted Enjolras. So instead of engaging the unshaven man in conversation, he grabbed Combeferre’s hand and dragged him back to their apartment right after the meeting.

            Enjolras and Combeferre had been dating for three years, and were practically codependent. They had been best friends all through growing up, the token gays of their rich suburbia. It wasn’t surprising when they announced they were a couple, everyone thought they already were. Some couples were full of passion, of fights and hot, angry makeup sex. Enjolras and Combeferre were the opposite, they were steady, safe. They didn’t fight, and sex wasn’t a huge part of their relationship. They were best friends, first and foremost. They could easily live their whole lives together.

“What’s your rush?” Combeferre asked, hurrying behind Enjolras as he strode home from the Musain.

“I didn’t like that man.” Enjolras glowered. “He was drunk and disruptive.”

“He had some decent points…” Combeferre pointed out. Enjolras gave a brief nod- perhaps that was what had bothered him the most. “We could use his opinion.”

“Perhaps, but I do not want to listen to the ramblings of a drunk. If he was sober, maybe.” Enjolras conceded. “And yes, feel free to tell Courf and Jehan such.” Combeferre nodded as they entered their apartment.

            “Do you have any work?” Combeferre asked. Enjolras shook his head. “Okay, well, why don’t we put on a movie and relax? I’ll make popcorn.”

“Sounds good. Can it be a documentary about the French Revolution?” Enjolras asked.

“What about that new one about philosophy during that era?” Combeferre countered. Enjolras nodded and kissed Combeferre swiftly before putting the movie in. They settled in the couch with popcorn, happily nerdy and overly studious.

“Damnit, Jehan.” Grantaire groaned as they left the Musain. “You didn’t tell me that the leader was a god. Apollo, to be exact.”

“A god who is taken, may I remind you.” Jehan sighed.

“Is he dating that cute one with the glasses?” Grantaire asked. Jehan nodded. “They seemed more like platonic life partners to me.”

“They practically are.” Jehan explained. “Combeferre and Enjolras have been best friends for as long as we’ve known them. It was kind of weird, so many people assumed they were together that eventually they just were. They love each other, but it’s a weird and ridiculously codependent relationship.”

“So…no sex?” Grantaire raised an eyebrow.

“I think they have sex. Just not a lot. I don’t know.” Jehan shrugged. “It’s their business, you know?”

“Yeah.” Grantaire sighed. “So, how badly do your friends think of me?  Never allowed back again?”

“Nah, ‘Ferre text me about it. Enjolras thought you had interesting ideas, didn’t like that you were drunk while saying them. Be sober and you’re allowed.” Jehan said, grabbing his vodka bottle and taking a swig.

“Yeah, be sober in order to be part of an activist club?” Grantaire scoffed. “No thanks.”

“You’ll go.” Jehan sing-songed. “You want to see your out-of-reach Apollo again. You always were a masochist, ‘Taire.”

            The next week, Enjolras was surprised to walk into the Musain to see the cynic sitting there with Jehan again, and a dark-haired girl, sans alcohol. Combeferre didn’t seem quite as surprised, and he pulled Enjolras aside.

“I know you got a bad first impression of him, but be nice this time. He even brought a friend. This could be good, even if he doesn’t agree with us, because it will help you find the holes in your arguments.” He muttered. “So at least say hi after, okay?”

“I suppose you’re right, as always.” Enjolras sighed, before taking his usual place at the head of the room.

            The meeting passed smoothly, for the most part. Grantaire played devil’s advocate, but this time, Enjolras noticed ‘Ferre writing down some of his more valuable points, and Enjolras countered them instead of ignoring them. When the meeting was over, Enjolras approached the other man, as per ‘Ferre’s orders.

“I appreciate your sobriety today.” Enjolras smiled lightly. Grantaire laughed slightly, his blue eyes dancing. Enjolras was taken aback by their beautiful shade, and shook his head a moment to clear it.

“Wow. Apollo, you really know how to start a conversation.” Grantaire smirked, extending his hand. “Despite our riveting debates earlier, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I’m Grantaire.” On instinct, Enjolras accepted the handshake. The other man’s hand was warm and callused, yet a shiver rushed through him. What was wrong with him today?

“I’m Enjolras, not Apollo.” He countered. Grantaire laughed again, loudly and musically.

“I know.” He winked, before gesturing to the girl beside him. “This is my best friend and roommate, Eponine.”

“Hi, Enjolras. I enjoyed the meeting, and I’m particularly interested in your work against sex trafficking and rapists walking free.” She said warmly, shaking his hand. “I have some firsthand experience that you may find useful.”

“That would be great, actually.” Enjolras replied. It was rare to find anyone with such experience willing to talk about it. “How about you and I grab coffee tomorrow afternoon and talk about what we can do?”

“Definitely.” Eponine nodded, pulling out a pen and scrawling something on her napkin. “Here’s my number. And ‘Taire’s, just in case.” Grantaire, inexplicably, flushed red.

“Thanks.” Enjolras pocketed the napkin, making a mental note to put the numbers in his phone soon. “So are you two a couple?” They both burst out laughing at that, shaking their heads.

“Too scrawny for me. And gay.” Eponine gasped out. “Nah, my type is more like him.” She said, gesturing at Bahorel.  “In fact, I think I’m going to introduce myself.” With that, she was off. Grantaire and Enjolras both watched in amusement as, within a minute, she and Bahorel were walking out the door. Eponine turned around enough to mouth ‘dinner’ at Grantaire and wave.

“She’s smooth.” Enjolras laughed.

“That she is.” Grantaire chuckled, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, she was also my ride home.”

“Where do you live?” Enjolras asked. “Combeferre and I came in separate cars from our classes, I can probably give you a ride.”

“Birch Avenue.” Grantaire said, naming a street that was about twenty minutes away from where Enjolras lived, thirty minutes from the Musain. “I can walk or take the bus, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s not too far out of my way.” Enjolras shrugged. “I insist.” He didn’t give Grantaire time to object before turning to his boyfriend.

“Combeferre!” he called. ‘Ferre turned around from his conversation with Joly.

“Yeah?” he asked, pushing his glasses up a bit more on his nose, a nervous habit that Enjolras had always found adorable.

“I’m going to give Grantaire a ride home since his ride just bailed to hang out with Bahorel. See you at home?”   
“Sure.” Combeferre smiled before turning back to Joly.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Enjolras said to Grantaire, walking over to his hybrid.

“Dude. Of course you drive one of those hippie, environmentally conscientious cars.” Grantaire teased. “I bet you only drink fair-trade coffee too and buy all your fruit from the farmer’s market.”

“Wow, we’ve only officially known each other for a day, and yet you know me so well.” Enjolras shot back, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Let me guess, when you turn on the music, John Lennon’s “Imagine” is going to come on.” Grantaire smirked. Enjolras hit the button for the stereo and “Thunderstruck” filled the car. The astonished look on Grantaire’s face was priceless. “Okay, would not have pegged you for a AC/DC guy.”

“I grew up in upper class suburban paradise. I went to Catholic Church every Sunday and when I came out, my mom called me an abomination. Call it a leftover from being a rebellious teen, but I blasted classic rock over their classical at all hours. Big Supernatural fan too.”

“You watch that show too? Bet your parents flipped then, it’s pretty blasphemous.” Grantaire laughed. “Who’s your favorite, Sam or Dean?”

“Dean.” Enjolras grinned. “I had a huge crush on him for the longest time.”

“Had?” Grantaire raised an eyebrow and Enjolras felt his face grow warm.

“Okay, still have.” Enjolras admitted. “The show’s my guilty pleasure.”

“Combeferre’s too?” Grantaire asked, a bit more quietly.

“He can’t stand it, actually. Too much gore, too many improbable things. He’s very focused on reality, says there’s too many weird things to worry about here.”

“Well, if you ever need a watching buddy…”

“You know, I might take you up on that.”

            As he drove and they talked, Enjolras couldn’t help but feel guilty about how quickly he had judged Grantaire. He was smart and funny, that much was clear. Enjolras found out that he was getting an art degree, and quickly enlisted him to help with posters for rallies. He had a job online, doing commissions of fan art and sometimes original work, that paid pretty well, and his dream job was to be a comic book illustrator for Marvel- NOT DC. Enjolras almost clapped at this, he felt that Marvel was more successful in representing people as flawed and still strong. It was too soon when he pulled up in front of a semi-shabby apartment building.

            “Well, this is me.” Grantaire said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Thanks for the lift, Apollo, it was fun.”

“Anytime.” Enjolras waved as Grantaire slid out of the car. “And my name isn’t Apollo!” Grantaire just laughed as he waved goodbye.

            Enjolras blasted AC/DC on the drive home, singing along (badly). When he pulled up to their apartment, he saw that the outside light had been left on and ‘Ferre’s car was in their allotted parking spot, which meant- damn- he had to park on the curb.

“It’s supposed to be my week, you thief!” Enjolras called as he entered their apartment. He could hear ‘Ferre’s warm laugh from the bedroom.

“I got there first. Sorry!” he called back, not sounding sorry at all. Enjolras stood in the doorway to see Combeferre already in bed, reading a philosophy book with his thick glasses sliding down his nose.

“Hey you.” Enjolras smiled softly. “Mind if I join you?” Combeferre shook his head and patted the bed next to him.

“Not at all.” Enjolras shimmied out of his jeans and climbed into bed next to ‘Ferre, pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss.

“What’s up?” Combeferre asked, pulling away. “Normally you just want to go to sleep after you get home late.”

“Just in the mood, that’s all.” Enjolras shrugged, smiling at the way ‘Ferre’s warm brown eyes crinkled up. Yet, for some reason, his thoughts kept going back to dark blue eyes and a dry laugh.

            “So, what’s up with you and Enjolras?” Courfeyrac asked a month later, sliding in a booth across from Grantaire in the Musain. Grantaire looked up from his sketchbook to shoot his friend a look.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He said, turning back to shading his sketch. Courf scoffed at him, undeterred.

“He has been talking to you at every available opportunity, you guys got together to watch that gory Satan show, and I know for a fact that he was texting you last night. Plus, you fell in love with him the first time you met him.”

Grantaire groaned at the last part. “Is it that obvious?” he asked. Courf nodded and Grantaire hid his face in his hands. “Does Enj know? Or Combeferre?”

“Enjolras is so oblivious with relationships, there is no way he knows. ‘Ferre, on the other hand… “Courfeyrac trailed off as Grantaire winced. “Look, I know ‘Ferre and he would never hold it against you.”

“And I would never…”Grantaire sighed. “I may be an alcoholic jerk, but I would never go after someone else’s boyfriend. I just want to be his friend.”

“And the unrequited love bit?” Courfeyrac asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I can deal with that.” Grantaire replied firmly, ending the conversation.

            Grantaire was lying through his teeth. He couldn’t actually deal with the way it felt like he was being stabbed in the heart every time he saw Combeferre and Enjolras exchange so much as a loving glance. So he got drunk. And if they kissed...well, at the rate he was going, the world was going to run out of vodka.   

                        “Hey R.” Speak of the devil. Grantaire turned to see Enjolras and Combeferre standing near him, holding hands. Enjolras’s nose was a bright red from the wind and cold outside, matching his beanie. Grantaire absolutely did not have butterflies in his stomach, by the way. Not even a little.

“Hey Enjolras, Combeferre.” He said, forcing a smile. Enjolras beamed back at him, but Combeferre’s smile seemed a bit strained.  “How’s it going?”

“We’re good.” Combeferre replied, wrapping an arm around Enjolras’s waist possessively. Grantaire nodded and walked over to the bar- he needed a damn drink.

            Three hours later, Grantaire could hardly see straight, and for a seasoned drinker like him, that was saying something. The room was spinning, but he could see Courfeyrac and Combeferre speaking off to his side, sliding covert glances at him. He turned towards them in full intention of finding out what they were saying, but was quickly impeded by his favorite blonde.

“Enj!” he slurred. “Come to join me in my drink and merriment?”

“No.” Enjolras retorted, scowling at him. “You’re way too drunk to drive, though. How’d you get here, anyway?”

“Got a ride with Courf.” Grantaire squinted, trying to remember. “I think.”

“Well, I’m going to give you a ride home.” Enjolras said, leaving no room for argument.

“What about ‘Ferre?” Grantaire asked, ever the dissenter, gesturing in the other man’s general direction.

“Courf’s going to give him a ride home. Come on, winecask.” Enjolras sighed, hefting Grantaire up and supporting him as he swayed from side to side.

“You’ve got a pet name for me, how sweet!” Enjolras rolled his eyes at this exclamation.

            This car ride was spent in silence, punctuated occasionally by a drunken comment from Grantaire, followed by an irritated response. When they finally pulled up, Enjolras helped Grantaire out and to his door, even unlocking it for him when Grantaire fumbled with his keychain. His face was red and he looked as if he was about to explode.

“Why do you do this to yourself, Grantaire?” he asked finally, scarily quiet.

Grantaire shrugged. “To forget the pain, I s’pose.”

“What do you mean?” Grantaire let out a humourless laugh at that, but Enjolras kept staring at him expectantly.

“If you must know, I’m in love with someone, and they don’t- and couldn’t- love me.” He said finally. Enjolras seemed taken aback by his  confession. “Of course, that’s not the only reason I drink, or the only pain.” Grantaire amended, smirking slightly. “If I listed those, we’d be here all night. That was the predominant reason tonight.”

“Well, whoever this person is, they’d be blind not to love you back.” Enjolras said seriously, sending more butterflies, and gut-wrenching pain, throughout Grantaire.

“He is blind, but someone like him would never actually care about me, especially not like that.” Grantaire shrugged.

“I can’t imagine anyone knowing you and not caring about you.” Enjolras muttered, staring at his feet. Grantaire reached his hand to tilt Enjolras’s chin up, a jolt of electricity running through his veins as the ice blue eyes met his own.

“Hey, don’t look sad.” Grantaire murmured. “It’s not your fault I’m a moron who’s in love with…someone.”

            He wasn’t sure who moved first, intoxicated as he was.  One minute, Grantaire’s fingers were gently cupping Enjolras’s chin- which was already too close- and they were only an inch or so apart. The next, Enjolras’s lips were warm against Grantaire’s, his hands around Grantaire’s waist, and Grantaire’s fingers tangling in Enjolras’s hair. Enjolras yanked Grantaire closer to him and Grantaire lost all of his remaining brain function, too caught up in the feel of Enjolras’s lips moving against his own.

            Unfortunately, the need to breathe overcame them too soon and they broke apart, out of breath and flushed.  Grantaire stared at Enjolras in shock, gaping slightly.

“Oh shit.” Enjolras swore, running a hand through his completely disheveled hair. “Crap, Grantaire, I’m…shit, okay, I’m going to go.” Before Grantaire could even react, Enjolras was headed out the door.

“Enjolras, wait.” Grantaire said, following the other man to the door. Enjolras shook his head quickly.

“I need to go home. See you around.” With that clear dismissal, Enjolras was gone, leaving Grantaire with kiss-swollen lips and more alcohol.

_November 10, 2013 2:39 am_

_To: Enjolras_

_I’m sorry for whatever happened back there. I shouldn’t have kissed you knowing full well you’re in a relationship. The fact that I was drunk (am?) doesn’t excuse that. Thank you for the ride home. I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again._

_November 10, 2013 9:01 am_

_From: Enjolras_

_You don’t bother me. It’s no big deal. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen?_

_November 12, 2013 10:11 pm_

_From: Enjolras_

_What did you think of the episode tonight?_

_November 13, 2013 10:40 pm_

_From: Enjolras_

_You weren’t at the meeting tonight. Is everything ok?_

_November 16, 2013 10:55 pm_

_From: Enjolras_

_You weren’t there tonight either. You alive?_

_November 17, 2013 12:28_

_From: Enjolras_

_Courf says you’re okay. And replying to him._

_November 17, 2013 12:58 pm_

_From: Enjolras_

_I’m sorry, I fucked up._

_November 19, 2013 8:15 pm_

_From Enjolras:_

_Want to come watch this episode with me? It’s supposed to be actual horror._

_November 20, 2013 11:12 pm_

_From Enjolras:_

_Are you just not coming anymore?_

_November 23 11:56 pm_

_From Enjolras:_

_Guess not. I won’t bother you again._

            The third Friday of his self-imposed exile, Grantaire was sitting on the couch amid various alcohols and chip packets with hours’ worth of Netflix lined up; he was good for the whole weekend. It had finally decided to rain, the sound soothing as ever, the perfect backdrop to three days’ worth of drunkenness, horror shows, and the occasional romantic comedy. Enjolras hadn’t text him since last Saturday, which was just as well. He didn’t want to hear what the revolutionary had to say- it was a mistake, he shouldn’t have kissed him, he didn’t care about him, blah blah blah.

            He was an hour into his marathon when he heard pounding on his door. He paused his show, swearing under his breath. It was pouring outside- no sane human being would be out there.

“Grantaire, I know you’re in there!” a voice shouted. Grantaire groaned- the voice belonged to the last person he wanted to see.  “Open up this door or so help me, I’ll break it down!”

            “What do you want, Enjolras?” Grantaire asked, pulling the door open to reveal a very wet idealist. Enjolras was literally dripping, his jacket appeared to be soaked through, and Grantaire didn’t see his car outside.  “And where’s your car?”

“Can I come in?” he asked, sniffling slightly. Grantaire was surprised at how his voice broke slightly and stepped aside. He took a second glance at the younger man- his eyes were wet and his nose was slightly red, and he was shivering violently.

“Jesus, Enj, you’re going to get sick.” Grantaire scolded, slamming the door. “Get out of those clothes, I’ll grab you some sweats and a t-shirt.” Ten minutes later, Grantaire had Enjolras sitting on the couch in his clothes, cradling a cup of tea.  Now that he was semi-dry, it was easier to see that he had definitely been crying.

“I have so many questions right now- first, why are you here? How did you get here? What’s wrong?” Grantaire asked, gently as he could- which, granted, was not very gently. Enjolras’s face appeared to crumple a little bit, but he stiffened, just like he always did before a speech. Grantaire wanted to cry at the familiarity of it.

“I didn’t know where else to go, I walked, and…” Enjolras trailed off, looking much younger than he was, and sniffling a little bit more. “Combeferre dumped me.” Grantaire’s eyebrows shot up.

“What the hell? Where’d you walk from? What happened?” he exclaimed, no longer attempting to stay calm.

“We were at a café about twenty minutes’ walk from here.” Enjolras said quietly, staring at his lap.

“You should’ve text me, told me to pick you up, and anyway, isn’t Courfeyrac closer? Why didn’t you go there?” Grantaire asked. To his dismay, Enjolras’s eyes were welling with tears. “Woah, hey, okay, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I, um, couldn’t go there because Courf and…” he let out a sob as he trailed off. Grantaire inched towards Enjolras awkwardly, wrapping his arms around him lightly. Enjolras leaned into him, crying harder, and Grantaire tightened his grip until Enjolras was pressed into his shoulder. “I just needed a friend, okay!” Enjolras got out in between sobs, “and I know you hate me for what happened and I kind of hate me too, and I figured if I text you you’d just ignore me and not let me in and I’m not even surprised that he dumped me because I knew it was coming it just hurts that he’s seeing Courf and I had it coming too so I shouldn’t even be upset and I’m sorry for bothering you. Do you want me to go?”

“Shh, I don’t want you to go. It’s okay.” Grantaire murmured, playing with Enjolras’s hair lightly. He had never been one for comforting others, but Enjolras had come here despite-wait a second. “What do you mean, I hate you? I don’t hate you.”

“I took advantage of you when you were drunk.” Enjolras sniffed into his shoulder. “I’m so mad at myself for that, that’s why I got out so fast, I didn’t want to screw up even more.”

“THAT’S why you left!?” Grantaire exclaimed. “I thought it was because you hated me for kissing you.”

“What? Grantaire, I kissed YOU!” Enjolras said, astonished. Grantaire tried to ignore his heart racing at Enjolras’s words.

“Okay. Well. It’s almost Christmas time. Want to watch Love Actually?” he asked quickly, changing the subject before it could get dangerous, indicating the next movie on his to-watch list. Enjolras nodded and Grantaire switched out his flask for a cup of tea. Enjolras fell asleep half an hour into the movie, and Grantaire tucked a blanket around him before getting up to go to bed. He was just about to leave the room when he heard Enjolras’s phone buzzing. Not wanting it to wake him, he picked it up and checked the caller ID.

“He’s fine, Combeferre. He’s with me.” Grantaire said, answering the phone.

“Grantaire? We haven’t heard from you in weeks!” Combeferre said, sounding surprised. “I didn’t know you two were even speaking.”

“We weren’t.” Grantaire snapped. “But when he showed up on my doorstep soaking wet and crying I wasn’t exactly going to turn him away, now was I?”

“Is he okay?” the concerned tone in Combeferre’s voice made Grantaire want to throw the phone across the room. He knew ‘Ferre cared, and maybe it was even for the best that they broke up, but he had just seen the guy he was in love with sobbing, so he was a little biased.

“He’s fine.” He answered shortly. “He’s asleep on the couch currently.”

“Oh. Okay.” Combeferre paused awkwardly. “Well, tell him I called. Or not. But we kind of need to talk apartment arrangements.” This time, Grantaire did throw the phone across the room.

            Grantaire was already awake and making pancakes when Enjolras stumbled bleary eyed into the kitchen. He shoved a cup of coffee towards the blonde, who gulped it down like he would die if he didn’t get it immediately.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Grantaire smirked. Enjolras made some noise similar to speech and took a sip out of the second cup Grantaire had placed in front of him. The all-Amis sleepover they had had a month ago made everyone aware of just how much Enjolras needed his coffee. “I made pancakes.”

            “You’re a god among men, R.” Enjolras muttered as a plate was set down in front of him. Grantaire couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Hey, why was my phone across the room? With a shattered screen?”

“Oh, um…sorry, I’ll pay for that.” Grantaire said, focusing intently on making pancakes.

“Why did you even have my phone in the first place?” Enjolras inquired lightly, smiling. “And it’s no big, I have warranty on it. You know how I get when I’m grumpy- this won’t be the first time I’ve had to get it replaced.”

“When you were asleep, Combeferre called and I answered ‘cause I didn’t want it to wake you up.” Grantaire explained reluctantly. “He said something that pissed me off.”

“Which was?” he was still smiling slightly, much happier-seeming than the previous night.

“Um, he wanted to discuss apartment arrangements?” Grantaire said quickly, watching Enjolras’s face fall.

“Oh. You don’t know. Courfeyrac lost his apartment last week. We have a spare room, so he is moving in with us. Today, actually.” Enjolras explained, looking at a loss for what to do.

“Do you want to stay here for a few days?” Grantaire asked impulsively before he could stop himself. “I don’t have a spare room but I have a pretty nice couch. I can understand if you don’t want to be around them right now, or at all, so you can stay here before you figure out what to do. Not that you have to! Of course! I won’t be insulted if you say no.”

“Grantaire!” Enjolras cut him off before he could say anymore. “Thank you, that would be wonderful. And you were rambling.”

“Oh. Right. Do you want to go get some stuff?” Grantaire asked. “I mean, you can borrow my clothes or whatever but if I were you, I’d want my own toothbrush.”

“I just…I don’t really want to go over there right now.” Enjolras said, staring down at his hands.

“That’s fine, I can go. Do you want me to take the bus and grab your car for you, or what?” Grantaire offered quickly. Some time alone might give him a minute to get his head together.

“That would be wonderful too. Thanks, ‘Taire.” Enjolras smiled at him gratefully and Grantaire felt his stomach flip-flop again.

            Loaded with a list of things to grab, Grantaire arrived at Enjolras and Combeferre’s apartment half an hour later. He hadn’t bothered calling ahead, mostly because he was still pissed with Combeferre. He strode past the doorman, flashing Enjolras’s key and rode the fancy elevator to the penthouse. Because of course they had the fanciest apartment.  The door to the apartment was open already, a mess of boxes visible. Grantaire went straight in, not even bothering to tell the owner(s?) that he was there.

“Grantaire?” Courfeyrac noticed him first. “What are you doing here?” At the sound of Courfeyrac’s voice, Combeferre emerged from the bedroom holding another box with his glasses cockeyed.

“Oh, hello Grantaire.” He greeted, seemingly unsurprised.

“I’m grabbing some of Enjolras’s stuff.” Grantaire explained coolly. Combeferre raised his eyebrows.

“Well you moved fast…” he said dryly.

“For your information, it’s not like that. He’s just staying at my place for a few days while he figures out what he wants to do.  And you’re one to talk, anyway.” Grantaire retorted nodding to Courfeyrac. The actor picked that moment to leave the room, practically tripping over himself in his eagerness to flee.

“I think Enjolras knows exactly what, or who, he wants to do.” Combeferre said quietly, looking a little sadder than Grantaire expected. “But he doesn’t know what to do about it.”

“What do you mean by that?” Grantaire asked.

“He’s in love with you.” Combeferre shrugged, staring straight ahead. “I love him and he loves me, but I don’t think we were ever really ‘in love’. The way he acted about you, well, he tried to hide it and ignore it, but I saw how upset he was when you stopped coming to meetings and when you didn’t text him back. Courfeyrac and I have liked each other for a while, and I ignored it at first too, but….I didn’t know what to do until I realized how Enjolras felt about you.”

“You’re crazy. He’s not in love with me, I’m just his friend. If anything, a rebound.” Grantaire sighed, trying not to sound upset about it.

“Grantaire, Enjolras and I have been friends practically our whole lives. We’re better off as friends, too. But I know him better than anyone, and I’m telling you I’ve never seen him this way about someone before. So don’t hurt him.” Combeferre smiled slightly. “We’ve been best friends for a long time and once we both adjust to the change, we’ll go back to normal, so I’m telling you as Enjolras’s best friend to go for it. And as his ex-boyfriend that he’ll never make the first move. Now, I’m going to go help Courf, and you can grab his stuff. His car keys are in the first drawer in the kitchen.  Tell him to call me when he wants to.” With that, Combeferre left, leaving Grantaire gaping at a blank wall.

A week later, Grantaire still hadn’t done anything other than think about Combeferre’s words over and over, and Enjolras was still sleeping on his couch. Combeferre and Enjolras seemed to be falling back into the step of friendship, and Grantaire had attended the Amis Thanksgiving with Enjolras on Thursday (Not as a date, of course). They had even braved the crowd of Black Friday shopping that morning and Grantaire, at least, had gotten most of his Christmas shopping out of the way.

“Enj, I heated up some leftovers from last night!” Grantaire called as he heard the shower turn off.

“Okay, be out in a minute!” Enjolras called in response. Grantaire brought the food to the couch and queued up a movie on Netflix. Enjolras plopped next to him, wet hair flopping into his eyes a little bit. Grantaire smiled at the imperfectness of the usually golden god, wishing he knew if Combeferre was right. “Hey, can we talk?” Enjolras asked, startling Grantaire from his daydreams.

“Sure thing, what’s up?” Grantaire fidgeted, trying to hide the sudden nervousness.

“Well, I’ve been here for a week now. And Combeferre has let me know that the spare room is avalible and as odd as it sounds, I don’t really mind the reversal there.” Enjolras said slowly.

“Oh, so you’re leaving, okay, that’s fine, I’m glad I could help.”  Grantaire knew he was babbling again but he couldn’t help it. Honestly, the past week had been amazing, despite the lack of anything romantic. He didn’t really want Enjolras to leave.

“I’m not done, ‘Taire.” Enjolras chuckled a bit. “As I was GOING to say…I don’t mind going back there. But I’m fine with staying here, if that’s okay? I’ll pay you for rent and everything-just while I look for my own place.”

“Hey, if you want to stay on my couch, that’s fine!” Grantaire exclaimed, possibly too quickly. “Great!”

“Okay, great.” Enjolras repeated, smiling at him.

“Yeah, great.” Grantaire said again, smiling back, struck a bit dumb by Enjolras’s smile.

“You already said that.” Enjolras pointed out, his face so close that Grantaire could see the freckles across his nose.

“Did I?” Grantaire breathed, not wanting to blink.

“Can I kiss you?” Enjolras murmured, his blue eyes wide. Grantaire kissed him in response.

            It wasn’t like the first time, drunken and dark and rushed.  This time, they kissed slowly, caringly. Grantaire could hear his heart pounding in his ears and when they broke apart for a breath, he saw that Enjolras was flushing adorably. This time, Enjolras didn’t run away. Instead, he leaned his forehead against Grantaire’s gently.

“That guy who you said you were in love with…” Enjolras asked quietly. “Is it an issue? I never asked who it was.”

“I’ll give you a hint; I was just kissing him.” Grantaire laughed slightly. “Really, Enj? You didn’t know? You’re supposed to be the smart one.”

“I hoped.” He leaned in and kissed Grantaire again. “I love you too, by the way.”

“I know.” Grantaire laughed again. “Combeferre told me.”  
“He knew? That son of a bitch, that’s why he dumped me, huh?” Enjolras exclaimed, not seeming too upset about it. “When did he say that?”

“When I went to get your stuff last week.” Grantaire said, tilting Enjolras’s chin up to kiss him again.

“And you didn’t say anything all week?” Enjolras gasped, fake offended.

“To be fair, you were pretty upset for half of it.” Grantaire pointed out.

“But I was in love with you before that.”  He shot back, kissing him again. Grantaire may or may not have died and gone to heaven. “Now you know why I’m willing to sleep on a couch while looking for an apartment when there’s a perfectly good bed at my old house.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t look for a new apartment?” Grantaire asked in a single breath, nervous as he had ever been. They weren’t even together yet. Enjolras pulled away to give him a LOOK.

“And sleep on the COUCH?” He asked. Grantaire started laughing and Enjolras joined in, his eyes crinkling up.

“Maybe you shouldn’t sleep on the couch…” Grantaire finally got out between laughs.

“I can live with that.” Enjolras smiled. Grantaire promptly kissed him and they completely ignored the movie for the rest of the evening.

“I love you, Enj.”

“I love you too.”

 


End file.
